Into the Dark
by Eirian
Summary: When Kurt is struck with a routine illness while still at Dalton, Blaine comes to the rescue-without fully understanding what he's getting himself into. Mild hurt/comfort - spoilers for 2.16 "Original Song"
1. Heaven and Hell

_A/N: The title for this story, as well as all chapter titles, comes from the "death cab for cutie" song "I Will Follow You Into the Dark". If you know the song-don't worry, no one dies. The titles are taken out of context; I just liked the imagery of the song, and the sentiment is definitely one the boys share for each other. And if you don't know the song- run, don't walk to youtube/napster/rhapsody/your music-listening venue of choice, & find it. Listen & love it! Seriously, one of my all-time favorite songs._

_One last thing: I've never had migraines, but my mom has, and I've gotten a ulot/u of feedback from people who have them, which has influenced the upcoming events in the story. I am also not a nurse, but! I do work with them, & I can't help but adding little dashes of that secondhand knowledge to the story._

_Now, please enjoy, & let me know what you think!_

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><p>Ironically, Kurt hadn't had any issues with his health when he first started at Dalton. Normally a robust and healthy boy (no matter what his thin physical appearance might imply), he rarely caught colds, and hadn't had either the flu or a stomach virus in years. He thought it might have to do with getting tossed in dumpsters so often - his body had built up a healthy immunity to all those germs.<p>

While he did sometimes get migraines, they usually didn't occur until he was already at home in the evening - tiredness could be a trigger, he knew. But during the entire stressful week of having Pavarotti die, and getting ready for Regionals (and then losing Regionals, which was a whole different kind of stress), nothing had happened. And then he was able to relax and really think about all that had occurred. He realized that he was happy with his life now.

Despite no longer being a competing choir, the Warblers still held practice, and it was actually a lot less constrained and regimented now. Some of the boys even broke out into spontaneous song, and while none of them were up to par with Rachel or Mercedes or his own diva-ness, it really did remind him a little of New Directions. And of course, he was able to really focus on the fact that _he had a boyfriend._ It helped that Blaine would meet him for lunch and they would hold hands under the table, and share secretive glances with each other. It wasn't all that different from when they were just friends, except the glances had a whole different meaning. And at the end of the day, either after classes or after Warbler practice, they'd head out for coffee, and again hold hands. They even ended up making out in Blaine's Mustang a couple times. It was great.

It was so great, Kurt should have realized something was going to happen. He was usually an excitable boy, but there was a different feeling to this. Of course, since nothing even remotely like this had ever happened to him before, he paid little attention to the fact that he was practically bouncing as he walked, or that a silly grin seemed to be permanently plastered onto his face.

Five days after Regionals, the Warblers had a short meeting scheduled before school let out for the weekend. Kurt was pleased to see Blaine moving toward him as he made his way from History, his last class of the day, to the practice hall. Blaine grinned at him and, once Kurt reached him, he slung an arm around his shoulders. This was all fairly normal behavior for him - what was new was that now, Blaine used that arm around Kurt's shoulder to pull him close and give him a lingering peck on the lips. "Hey, gorgeous," he greeted.

Kurt grinned. "Ooh, gorgeous. I like that one." Blaine, for some reason, had decided that Kurt needed a nickname. A couple nickname, that only Blaine called him. Kurt thought he was being ridiculous, to which Blaine had retorted that he knew Kurt secretly loved the idea. Kurt had rolled his eyes, but when he didn't verbally contradict him, Blaine had grinned smugly and said, "Uh-_huh._ That's what I thought." So, for the last week, at odd intervals (always when they were alone, which Kurt was thankful for - he knew the Warblers and their other schoolmates wouldn't make fun of them, but he would be so embarrassed if Blaine said anything in front of them), Blaine would use a different, fairly generic, nickname. 'Baby' had been first, which Kurt had shot down right away. 'Sexy' had actually been one of the first, to which Kurt had narrowed his eyes at Blaine and said, "I'm not sexy, remember? Baby penguin?" Blaine had raised a considering eyebrow at that, and Kurt had pointed at him menacingly. "If you call me penguin, or baby penguin, I will physically hurt you."

"Gorgeous. Okay, I'll mark that one down for later consideration. I've got about half of my list left, though," Blaine told him, grinning cheekily, which made Kurt laugh. It surprised him how much there was to still learn about Blaine, even though they'd known each other for months already - like the fact that Blaine made lists. He liked making lists. It was almost a compulsion for him, a way to keep everything organized. Which, thinking about it, made sense. Blaine adored being organized, in a way that was different than Kurt's own manic-neatness. He could sort of understand now how Blaine hadn't realized Kurt was in love with him; it hadn't fit into his plans, it wasn't on any of his mental lists, so he hadn't seen it.

They reached the practice hall, and Kurt took a seat on one of the sofas, tossing his bag down by the arm, out of the way. Blaine plopped down beside him, crowding him against the arm so they were pressed together from shoulder to hip to knee. Blaine grinned at him again, and winked, before turning toward the front of the room, propping his left elbow, opposite Kurt, on the back of the couch. His entire posture and demeanor said _Nothing out of the ordinary going on. Nope, nothing to see here._ Which was nice, because Kurt was pretty sure every time they were together, his own demeanor said, _OH MY GAGA, I'M WITH MY BOYFRIEND,_ in big flashing neon lights.

While the council (and Wes in particular) seemed to have loosened up a little now that they weren't competing, they still took themselves a little too seriously for Kurt, who started to let his mind wander. They were discussing a field trip to a local Long Term Care facility (Kurt thought Blaine had been joking about that, but apparently not) and what songs would be appropriate to sing to senior citizens. At least they were trying to be polite to their audience - they didn't think singing about putting 'your hands on me in my skin tight jeans' would be the right thing to do. Kurt wasn't so sure - he'd known some old folks who were even more perverted than the average teenage boy.

He didn't even notice anything was wrong until Blaine put his hand on Kurt's knee and whispered, "You okay?" Kurt glanced at him in confusion and Blaine nodded to Kurt's hands. He'd started absently rubbing at his left hand with his right, without realizing it. Now that he was paying attention, he realized his left hand and partway up his arm was tingling, like his arm had fallen asleep and was just now waking up, with that uncomfortable pins-and-needles feeling.

Pushing away an uncomfortable feeling of foreboding, Kurt gave a small chuckle. "Apparently I'm so bored my hand fell asleep," he joked. A few seconds after he'd spoken, though, he knew it was much more serious than that. The strange tingling had moved completely up his arm to his shoulder, and now the left side of his face and his lips were tingling, too. He'd never had his face fall asleep before, but he recognized the sensation from something else. It was part of an early warning sign that he should have been paying closer attention to. "Actually..." He wasn't sure what he was going to tell Blaine, but he didn't get a chance, anyway. Their whispered conversation hadn't gone unnoticed by the council.

"Something you want to share, Blaine, Kurt?" David called out, not unkindly. Everyone knew they were dating, despite being fairly discreet about it, so the council usually left them alone if they whispered occasionally during practice - especially now with the pressure of competition no longer weighing on them - but they did get a slight reprimand if it was obvious they weren't paying attention. Thankfully, it was usually David who called them on it, because Wes and Thad weren't usually quite as nice.

Kurt looked at the head table and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said politely, "but I'm not feeling well. I need to go see the nurse. I'm sorry for interrupting the meeting." He ignored Blaine's surprised and confused look, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than necessary - he'd already drawn more than enough attention, anyway. He hated people knowing he was sick or injured, they always fawned over him and offered him sympathy that, to him, felt an awful lot like pity, which he couldn't stand.

He stood up and reached for his bag, swinging it up to settle on his shoulder. Unfortunately, that was as far as his plan of a graceful exit got, because as he straightened up he was hit by a wave of dizziness that had him reaching out to grip the arm of the sofa in a subtle attempt to keep his balance.

Blaine was standing by his side by the time the vertigo passed, one hand at his elbow to steady him. "Come on, I'll take you to the nurse." Kurt shot him an exasperated look that he hoped Blaine interpreted as _I'm not a child, I can take care of myself._ However Blaine took it, his response was, "David and Wes can fill me in on the meeting later. Come on."

Kurt didn't protest, partly because he'd already made enough of a spectacle in front of the other Warblers, and partly because he really did need to go see the nurse, the sooner, the better. He surreptitiously checked his watch, trying to calculate just how much time he had. The warning signs usually hit about half an hour before he had to worry, but it was an hour's drive home, and he wouldn't be able to drive once it started.

"You're not gonna throw up, are you?" Kurt glanced over at Blaine in confusion. He recognized Blaine's tone of voice - it was the one he used when he was uncomfortable with something, and any minute now he was going to start babbling. Kurt usually found the babbling amusing and sweet, but his euphoric _Blaine is my boyfriend!_ mood was swiftly dissipating as the tension mounted in his body at what was about to happen. The apprehension of the migraine was almost as bad as the attack itself. Or at least, he always seemed to think so at the time - it was always actually worse during the migraine, he just didn't like remembering it.

"Do you have a problem with vomit?" Kurt asked, instead of answering.

Blaine shrugged jerkily, staring straight ahead and barely even glancing at Kurt. "It's... yeah, kinda. Doesn't everybody? I mean, it's not really a fun thing to do, or hear, or-" Blaine did look at him, then, and the worried look on his face almost made Kurt laugh, despite his own worries. "You're gonna puke, aren't you?"

Kurt snorted, rubbing absently at his lips, which were beginning to feel normal again. "It's possible. Hopefully not, though." Blaine gave him another confused look, but they'd rounded the corner and there was the nurse's office. The nurse was just leaving, too, her key ring out as she began to lock up the office.

"Wait!" Kurt threw up a hand to signal her to stop, and began running forward. He stumbled a little as the change in speed made him a little dizzy, but at least he'd gotten her to stop. He came to a halt in front of her, Blaine ever-present at his side. "My name's Kurt Hummel," he explained, "I have some medicine locked in the medicine cabinet, the Dean said because it was prescription it had to be locked up on school grounds."

The nurse looked from Kurt to Blaine for a moment, but nodded and pushed the door back open. "Come on in," she called over her shoulder, "and I'll look up your chart."

Kurt groaned. "Look, it's Imitrex, it's not like I'm gonna be selling it on the street or getting high on it, or anything. I just need to take it now, so it can start to take effect soon."

The nurse turned from where she'd found the chart labeled with _Hummel, Kurt E._ on the side, and gave him an unimpressed stare. "Mr. Hummel," she stated in a voice that matched her look, sounding like she was lecturing a slow child, "Whatever the circumstances, I have to look at your chart, and sign out the medication, so that _I_ do not get fired for stealing meds. Give me two minutes, and I'll get your medicine to you."

Kurt pressed his lips into a thin line, but suppressed all but the smallest of groans. He started drumming his fingers on his thigh impatiently, and started slightly when Blaine reached down and wrapped his fingers around his other hand. When he glanced over, Blaine still looked a little worried, but he smiled reassuringly at Kurt all the same. Kurt managed a small smile in return, and squeezed Blaine's fingers. He knew Blaine didn't like seeing him upset or in pain, and whenever anyone was hurting, physically or emotionally, Blaine wanted to find something to do to help. So Kurt knew this was going to be really hard for him to see, because there was absolutely nothing Blaine would be able to do. But he was so glad he wasn't alone right now.

Kurt swayed to the side far enough to lightly bump shoulders with Blaine. "Thank you. For being here right now."

Blaine leaned over and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek, which still managed to make Kurt color slightly. "I wouldn't be anywhere else," Blaine whispered back.

The nurse cleared her throat and held out a plastic cup with a blue and red pill in it, and a small cup of water. Kurt took the med cup and tossed the pill back dry, then handed the empty cup back to her. "Thanks. I can't drink water now, I'll just throw it back up." He felt Blaine's hand twitch, but when he looked, his face showed nothing but concern.

"Are you going to be able to make it home, or should I call your father?" the nurse asked.

Kurt ran through his mental calendar. His dad would still be working at the garage. Carol wouldn't be off work until seven. He barely even thought of Finn before discarding the idea - there was no way he was spending an hour-long car ride with Finn while he had a migraine. Finn thought silence needed to be filled, either with singing or talking.

He'd just decided to tell her he would call his dad - he knew his dad would take off early if he needed to, and this was definitely what Kurt considered a family emergency - when Blaine spoke up. "I'll take him home." Kurt turned to look at him in surprise, but Blaine just smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

_**To Be Continued...**_


	2. Blinding Light

_A/N: LiveJournal's not letting me on - again - so you lucky people get another chapter uploaded a few hours earlier than I'd intended. =D And I just want to say: Thank you SO much for all of the Story Favorites and Story Alerts! I kept checking my email every half hour, and would have at least four (usually closer to ten) new alerts from people! So awesome!  
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><p>The trip to Blaine's car was quiet, as Kurt's anxiety kept rising as the minutes ticked away. Blaine never let go of his hand though, and for that Kurt was thankful.<p>

It wasn't until they were about 10 minutes onto the highway that Kurt started to feel it. It started as a faint pulsing in his left temple and jaw, but within minutes it had spread to the entire left side of his head. If he focused on it, Kurt knew it was only on the left, but the pain was so strong it enveloped his entire skull, pulsing in rhythm with his heart.

Unable to quite hold in his whimper of pain, Kurt drew his legs up onto his seat, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face in the space between his knees and chest. He was very aware of the motion of the car; what used to be a steady, almost silent ride, now seemed to be nothing but bumps and hitches as every imperfection in the pavement was exaggerated by his hyper-sensitivity. He was beginning to think he hadn't gotten his medicine taken soon enough to be very effective, which was very, very unfortunate.

"Kurt, you okay?" Blaine's voice in the silence of the car was too loud, driving through Kurt's pounding head. Kurt tried to burrow his head deeper between his knees. After several long seconds, he pulled back enough for Blaine to hear him when he whispered, "Please be quiet. My head's killing me."

Just pulling back that far left his eyes exposed to the late afternoon sunshine, which added a whole new dimension of pain to his head. Swallowing against the pain and his roiling stomach, Kurt managed to ask quietly, "D'you have any sunglasses I could borrow?"

"What? Oh, uh..." Blaine reached over and pulled the glove compartment open - it banged loudly as it fell on its hinges - and reached in for a pair of large dark glasses, that seemed more suited for Audrey Hepburn than him. He held them out for Kurt, who slowly unwrapped one hand from his legs to take them. He felt like he was moving through molasses, if that molasses allowed him to still be hyper-aware of every sensation against his skin. The glasses were cool in his fingers, and he slid them onto his face with a soft sigh. They did nothing to relieve his original headache, but they blocked out a large amount of light that was making his head hurt worse. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

Blaine closed the glove compartment, and even the _snick!_ of the latch made Kurt twitch. He was glad Blaine loved his car, and wasn't someone who would thoughtlessly slam the glove box closed, even when he wasn't trying to be quiet for Kurt's sake.

"So...this is normal?"

Kurt tilted his head just enough for one sunglasses-covered eye to look at Blaine over his arm. "What?"

Blaine shrugged, looking uncomfortable, and not much like his usual confident self. "You never told me what's going on." He kept his voice pitched just low enough that it drifted to Kurt across the car, and Kurt had the fleeting thought that he had a very considerate boyfriend. "You just said you were sick, but you've got a prescription for it, and you seem to know when you should take it, but you never said what it's _for_. You've never mentioned having a... a condition, before." He stumbled a little on the word, seeming unsure if that was what he wanted to say, but unable to think of anything else to describe it.

Kurt sighed and buried his head in the hollow of his legs again. He focused on the rhythm of the car, which seemed almost in tandem with the pounding of his head and the rolling of his stomach, seeming almost to ease the pain, at least a little. It might also have been the Imitrex finally kicking in, but he'd take the slight reprieve, whatever the cause. After a minute, he turned his head again so Blaine would be able to hear him.

"I've told you, I get headaches sometimes." Behind the sunglasses, he opened his eyes a little to watch the confusion cross Blaine's face. "They're migraines. Nobody knows what causes them, exactly. They're hereditary-my mother got them, too." He didn't like thinking about that, though. He took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm his stomach. The unrelenting pounding of his head was beginning to make his nausea worse again. "It's like someone's driving a spike into my head with every heartbeat. The light's too bright, sounds are too loud, my skin's too sensitive. I just want to lay in bed and not move, and hopefully the pain won't get to be so much that it makes me puke." Just the thought of throwing up made him moan, and he buried his head back in his knees.

It was silent for several long moments, for which Kurt was thankful. If it weren't for the fact that he was miserable, it would have been a wonderful car ride, just Blaine and him, in comfortable silence. Even talking wasn't too bad, as long as Blaine was quiet and Kurt talked slowly and quietly, and took a break when his head started hurting even worse.

"Are... Do you, get them a lot?" Blaine's hushed voice sounded concerned. "I know sometimes you'd say you had a headache and couldn't do your homework, but..."

Kurt wasn't about to shake his head, and he was afraid shrugging would tip the delicate balance his body had settled into at the moment, so he settled for a soft considering hum. "Not a lot. And, they usually go away after twelve hours or so." His eyes were closed, so he missed the wide-eyed, surprised look Blaine threw at him, but explained, "My mom used to get them a lot, and sometimes they'd last for days. She'd put in a movie in the living room for me, then go back to the bedroom. Sometimes I wouldn't even wait for the movie to be over before sneaking in there. I wasn't allowed on the bed because even if I was careful, climbing on it-the movement would make her sick. So I'd just sit on the floor by her head, and I'd take my naps in there by her. Even if we didn't talk, it was nice."

After a long pause, Blaine murmured, "It sounds nice."

Something in his tone of voice made Kurt think he thought something different. He wanted to defend his mother to Blaine, say she did the best she could, it wasn't like she'd wanted to be sick all the time. But arguing and getting upset would just make him feel worse, and he didn't want to argue with Blaine. Besides, Blaine hadn't really said anything to argue about, it was just something in his tone that bothered Kurt. So Kurt settled for a defiant and petulant-sounding, "It _was_ nice."

It must have been enough to clue Blaine in that he was upset, because Blaine sighed quietly. "I'm sorry. It does sound nice. It just - I just wish you hadn't had to go through that. See her sick like that. That's all."

Kurt made another verbal shrug noise. "I didn't know it wasn't normal, back then. I don't know when I realized other moms were different, that they didn't get sick... after she died, I think."

Hearing Blaine's jacket rustle, Kurt opened his eyes a slit just in time to see Blaine reach out and put his hand on his shoulder and squeeze gently. While Kurt was touched by the gesture, he couldn't help but notice the heat that came from Blaine's palm, even through two layers of clothing, and the light pressure of his hand made Kurt's stomach heave, oddly enough. Kurt twitched his lips into a pale comparison of his usual smile, and reached up to cover Blaine's hand. It felt hot under his palm, and Kurt realized his skin had grown cold and a little clammy, breaking into a light cold sweat. He squeezed Blaine's hand lightly - about all he could stand to do, at that point - and slowly removed Blaine's hand. He squeezed it again before letting go. "Sorry... touch right now... not a good idea."

Blaine looked hurt for a split second, his shoulders dropping as he moved his hand back to the steering wheel. "Oh...right. Sorry."

"It's kind of like being high," Kurt whispered, pretty sure even as he said it that the pain was making him just a little crazy. "Not that I've ever been, but... everything's bright, and loud, and the slightest touch, or brush of fabric, is multiplied by a hundred. Like a bad acid trip. Again, not that I'd know..." He buried his head in his knees again, but could just make out Blaine's amused huffed chuckle.

"Hey. Twenty-eight miles to Lima. Another half hour, we'll have you tucked in bed, nice and comfy."

Kurt hummed in anticipation, and pulled his legs up tighter to his chest.

The rest of the ride passed in silence, but it was comfortable, and the few times Kurt peeked out of the cocoon of his arms, Blaine hadn't seemed bothered. There was a slight crease of worry between his eyebrows, but for the most part, he'd looked like that since Kurt had announced to the Warblers that he was sick.

Blaine was worried about him. Blaine was taking time out of his day to make sure that Kurt was taken care of, that he was as comfortable as possible. And Kurt remembered another time Blaine had been worried about him, had driven to Lima just to help him out, even though they hadn't known each other very well at the time. Kurt felt his chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with his migraine. "I love you so much," he whispered almost silently, the words lost in the pocket of space between his knees and chest.

**_To Be Continued..._**

_Don't forget to leave a review telling me what you thought!_**_  
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	3. All Worn Down

_A/N: Next chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it, and let me know what you think!_

_I realized yesterday (*after* I uploaded the last chapter) that I've never included a disclaimer on here! It's part of the standard info I post on LJ, so I didn't even think about it for here. So!_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own the original idea of Glee, or any of the characters that have appeared on the show; they are the property of their respective owners, I am merely using them as source material for my own original work. The title for both the whole story and each chapter are from the _Death Cab for Cutie_ song "I Will Follow You Into the Dark".  
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><p>When they finally arrived at Kurt's house, Blaine parked on the street and cut the engine, turning to Kurt. "We're here," he whispered.<p>

"...okay. Gimme a minute." While the drive on the highway hadn't been that bad, once they'd gotten in town, all the braking and accelerating had upset Kurt's stomach, and made his head pound even worse. He just wanted to sit for a minute, and maybe, hopefully...please dear God, please... his headache would die down just enough that he could move without feeling like his head was going to tumble off his shoulders. At this point, that sounded like a blessing, since no head meant no headache to worry about.

After a couple minutes, he heard Blaine shift in his seat. "Kurt. The sooner we go in, the sooner you can lay down. We'll close your curtains and it'll be nice and dark... Come on..."

"Okay. Okay." He slowly began to unfold himself from his fetal position. He opened his eyes a little as he heard Blaine start moving, and saw him unbuckle and get out of the car. He automatically shut his door, and while he didn't exactly slam it, it wasn't quiet, and it shook the whole car.

The sound plus the jolt was too much for Kurt to take. He went from moving at a snail's pace to fumbling in his haste to get out as quickly as possible. He threw the seat belt off and shoved the car door open, almost hitting Blaine, who had come around to help him out. Kurt took several staggering steps away from the car before dropping to his knees and throwing up in the grass by the driveway.

Blaine froze, halfway between the car and Kurt. He put a hand to his mouth reflexively as he listened to Kurt being sick, and hesitated getting any closer. He'd always had an issue with people throwing up - not so much the fact that it was gross-even though it really was disgusting-but he was what his mother called a 'sympathetic puker.' If he heard someone being sick, he was sick.

_Suck it up, Anderson,_ he told himself sternly. _That's your boyfriend over there. He's sick, and in pain. He's hurting, and you're gonna go help... even if it kills you._

Blaine walked over to Kurt and bent down slightly, hesitating a little before touching his fingers to Kurt's shoulder. "Let's get you inside, okay?"

Kurt spit onto the grass one last time, before nodding tiredly. He wiped his mouth and nose on the sleeve of his uniform blazer, before realizing what he'd done and grimacing. "Eww."

Blaine couldn't help it - he chuckled. "You've got others. Come on."

When they reached the door, Kurt pulled out his keys and handed them to Blaine with shaking fingers. He leaned tiredly by the door while Blaine unlocked it, but once they were inside, he thought he might prefer to stay outside.

It was obvious right away that the peace and quiet Kurt had been hoping for would not be found soon, at least not on the main floor of the house. Finn was in the living room, playing some war game on his new XBox 360, with Puck beside him on the couch. A half-eaten box of pizza was sitting on the coffee table in front of them, the smell of cooked vegetables, meat, cheese, tomato and grease permeating the air.

The sound of the door opening was apparently loud enough to alert the boys, who paused the game to glance at the newcomers. Finn smiled and nodded to them. "Hey, guys!"

That was as far as he got in his greeting, before Kurt clapped a hand over his mouth and made a dash down the hall for the bathroom.

Finn looked confused, but it was Puck who asked, "Dude, what's his issue?"

Blaine pursed his lips against a burst of irrational anger at the two other boys. He tried telling himself that they didn't know Kurt was sick, couldn't know what the problem was, but he was still upset that they didn't somehow already know what the problem was, and try to fix it.

"He's got a migraine," he said, his tone sharper than he'd intended. He took a deep breath and held it for a second before slowly exhaling. "Could you mute that, please? Loud noises make him sick."

Blaine's opinion of Finn was...complicated. He knew a little of Kurt's backstory with the boy who was now his stepbrother, and while he respected the bond they had now, he couldn't help but note that Finn was not the brightest boy. His grasp at basic human interaction and subtlety was somewhat lacking most of the time, and yet at other times he was surprisingly astute.

This was one of the times he surprised Blaine. His eyes widened, and he glanced toward where Kurt had run. "Oh yeah- hey, yeah, okay. Go tell my mom, she's in the kitchen." He turned to Puck, who still looked confused, and started explaining. "We gotta be quiet. Actually, if it's cool, maybe we could go to your house. And we'll take the pizza, it'll probably bother him if we leave it out."

Puck still looked confused, but started helping Finn pick up their mess and put the game system away. Blaine could hear Puck start asking Finn something, but he'd moved into the kitchen and couldn't hear what the murmur of voices was saying.

Carole was sitting at the table reading a book, a small electronic timer sitting beside her. Blaine could tell something - probably Carole's chicken parmesan, which Kurt had raved about to him before - was baking in the oven, the smell just starting to waft through the room.

Carole glanced over and smiled at Blaine. "Blaine! I wasn't expecting you. Did you come home with Kurt?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am." He smiled a little, but couldn't hide his worried expression. "Kurt started getting a migraine during Warbler practice. I drove him home. He's... he's in the restroom, throwing up."

Carole sighed, looking sad at the news. "Poor dear." She glanced at the oven, then the timer. "Okay, Blaine. I'll go check on him."

Blaine followed behind her as they headed for the bathroom. Kurt hadn't shut the door behind himself, and Carole and Blaine found him leaning against the wall beside the toilet, wiping his mouth with a tissue. It upset Blaine to see how badly his hand was shaking with the small movement.

"Oh, honey." Carole moved in and knelt by Kurt, who gave a small whimper. She brushed his hair off his forehead gently. "Go upstairs and get changed into your pajamas. I'll get you some medicine."

"I took some... Imitrex at school... don't know if it helped... Didn't start throwing up... until we got here, though." He had to pause every few words to take a breath, and Blaine shifted uncomfortably. Kurt looked so _fragile_ right now, in a way he wasn't used to seeing. Even when Kurt was vulnerable, upset and crying, he still had some small piece of steel hidden underneath. Now, he just seemed wiped out, tired and miserable.

"Okay," Carole murmured. "I'll crush a Norco for you. Do you think you could keep a bite of applesauce down?"

"I'll try," came the miserable whispered reply.

**_To Be Continued..._**


	4. No One Beside You

_A/N: I wasn't going to post this today, because I haven't written the epilogue yet, so my LJ readers aren't getting an update until tomorrow. But I got a few reviews today that made me change my mind. (So don't forget to review, it might make me post faster! It definitely motivates me to write!__)_

_To **kina-san** (& anyone else interested): No Burt yet, but I did write him in. Interestingly, I somehow completely forgot about him when originally drafting this story in my head. I added Finn because I love his interactions with Kurt, & wanted to show that at home, Kurt's migraines are at least common-place enough that even Finn knows about & respects them (whereas this is the first Blaine's really hearing about them). When I posted this chapter, I realized I was ready to write the epilogue, and Burt hadn't shown up at all! Which is unacceptable, because Burt is like, the coolest parent **ever**. So, I wrote an interlude, which comes after this part. Let me know what you think! (And what you'd like to possibly see in the epilogue, since it's not written yet.)_

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><p>Blaine hung back while Carole left to get Kurt's medicine ready. He stood in the doorway to the bathroom, hands clenched into fists and shoved into his pockets, feeling awkward and useless and <em>helpless<em>, which was about the worst feeling. It was multiplied a hundred-fold because now, it wasn't just himself he couldn't help, but Kurt.

Blaine opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything really to say. After a second, Kurt glanced up at him. Blaine felt pinned by his gaze. His eyes were a little red and puffy from throwing up; his skin had a sallow, sickly yellow tinge, covered with a light sheen of sweat. He should be helping Kurt, should be doing _something_, but instead, all he could do was stand there staring, indecisive and acting like a deer caught in headlights.

"Pajamas," he finally blurted. Despite the pain, Kurt was still able to give him a look that was half confusion, and half _you're insane aren't you?_ "Carole said - get in your pajamas. Come on, I'll help you up to your room." He moved forward and reached out, but stopped, his hands hovering less than a foot from Kurt. He still remembered Kurt telling him in the car that he didn't want to be touched.

Kurt glanced from his hands to his face. He didn't smile, but his tone was soft. "I'm already in pain, Blaine." He reached out and grabbed Blaine's hand, but didn't pull himself up. Blaine could feel his hand shaking, and it was cold and clammy. But it was still solid, and it was still Kurt. He sighed a little, feeling his stomach clench, but also feeling inexplicably better. He was still unable to help Kurt, to stop his pain - but he was still Kurt, and he would eventually get better.

Blaine reached down and gently helped Kurt stand up. Blaine waited while Kurt stood still, grimacing and pressing his lips together as if he thought he might throw up again. If he did, Blaine wasn't sure he wouldn't end up joining him if he had to be this close to it, but thankfully - for all involved - after a moment Kurt took a cautious deep breath. "Okay," he whispered.

Blaine helped him slowly walk to and up the stairs, with Kurt placing his every step deliberately to avoid jarring his head. It took several minutes to reach his room on the second floor, and Kurt immediately sat down on his bed. Taking another deep breath in the hopes of settling his churning stomach, Kurt pointed to his dresser, hating how weak he felt, and the tremors in his arm just from lifting it. "Could you...get me some pajamas...please? Second drawer." Blaine darted over and pulled out the first pair he found, a navy silk top and pants, and gave them to Kurt.

Kurt sat still for a moment, trying to gather his strength to stand back up, when Blaine stuttered, "I'll just...go out in the hall. And...wait for Carole." At first, Kurt thought Blaine had finally had enough of trying to take care of him and was looking for an excuse to leave - until he saw Blaine's eyes dart to his pajamas, then away. And inexplicably, Kurt felt a smile tugging at his lips. He knew he was about as far away from his normal fabulous self as he could get, so the fact that Blaine was nervous about seeing him undress amused him.

"Okay," Kurt murmured. "Thanks." Blaine nodded, and seemed about to say something else, before simply swallowing and nodding again. He turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Kurt sighed. Now that he wasn't in a moving car, with bright sunshine in his eyes, or downstairs hearing video game gunfire and smelling greasy pizza, his migraine seemed to be settling down somewhat. It still throbbed, and his whole body felt like one big live wire, but it was somewhat better than earlier. His stomach wasn't really settled, but he didn't feel like he was going to puke every time he moved, either, so that in itself was an improvement.

Everything seemed to take so much longer, and be so much more difficult, when he had a migraine. First he had to take off his Dalton uniform, which consisted of far too many separate pieces of clothing. He had to sit for just a minute while his head throbbed a rhythm Finn would be proud of, before slowly putting on his pajamas.

He was just trying to button up his top when there were two soft knocks on his door. He didn't say anything, and after a long pause, the door swung open and Carole slowly peeked in. When she saw he was dressed, she came in, Blaine trailing behind her.

"Hey, Kurt," she murmured, coming over and sitting gingerly on the foot of the bed. She held a small bowl with a few bites' worth of applesauce, small white flecks just visible mixed into it. "Do you think you can keep this down?"

"Yeah. I think so." He took the bowl and gingerly took a bite, testing it in his mouth to see how his stomach reacted. If there had been more, he might not have been able to eat it, but since there were only about three bites in the bowl, he finished it quickly, trying not to focus on the taste or texture. Applesauce, he knew, was like peanut butter; it tasted the same coming back up as it did going down. Hopefully, though, it stayed down, and the painkiller crushed in it would start to work quickly. "Thanks, Carole."

Carole smiled and softly patted his knee. "No problem, sweetie. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs." She got up to leave, taking the empty bowl with her, and Kurt watched as she patted Blaine's shoulder as she passed him.

Blaine approached him, but instead of sitting on the bed like Carole had, he knelt in front of Kurt's knees. That was nice, since it seemed to take a lot of energy to lift his head enough to look people in the face. His headache was making the muscles in his neck and shoulders tight, and he really wanted nothing more than to lay down and try to sleep through it. Well, actually what he _really_ wanted was to be knocked out until the pain went away, but he didn't think that was going to happen.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Kurt stared at him for a moment, unsure how to tell him what he wanted. He knew Blaine just wanted to help, to make sure he was as comfortable and taken care of as possible, but... Kurt sighed and glanced away to the side, then murmured, "Could you pull my curtains shut?" The transparent drape was pulled, but the heavier opaque curtain had been left open to let in the light, and right now he wanted it as dark as possible.

Blaine was up right away, hurrying over and pulling the curtains together, fussing with the material until he was satisfied not a single ray of sunshine was going to come through. Then he was back kneeling in front of Kurt, waiting for any other instructions.

Kurt reached out with a slightly trembling hand and placed it lightly against Blaine's cheek. Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Blaine frowned and asked, "What is it? What can I do?"

"No, it's not... I just... I just wanna lay down." Blaine nodded in understanding, and started to move again, to pull down the bed covers for him, no doubt, trying to pamper him as much as possible. Kurt used his hand to put pressure on Blaine's cheek, making him pause. "Blaine, I... Thank you, so much, for helping me. I don't know what I would have done without you." That was the absolute truth, too; if it hadn't been for Blaine, he would have had to wait an hour for his dad to pick him up, and have another hour's car ride back home. Blaine had done everything he could to make Kurt as comfortable as possible.

Kurt leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Blaine's mouth, caressing his cheek with his thumb for a moment. "I just...want to be alone, right now."

He was watching, and saw the moment Blaine understood just what he was asking for. He saw the flash of hurt and disappointment in his eyes, quickly pushed down as Blaine smiled softly. "Yeah, okay. You got it."

Kurt couldn't believe he felt guilty, but there it was, settling into the pit of his stomach, making him feel nauseous again. "Blaine-"

He didn't know what he would have said - told Blaine he'd changed his mind, of course he could stay, something - but Blaine smiled again and gently cut him off. "I get it, Kurt. You're sick, and you need to rest. You won't be able to rest if I'm here - you'll feel obligated to make sure I'm entertained, or something. You'll be focused on me, and you need to focus on you right now. I get it, I do." He paused for a brief moment, then flashed a smile that was still tinged with melancholy, but it was one of his usual happy looks. "Doesn't mean I don't wish I could still do more, or that I'm not disappointed I can't stay with you, but this is what you need right now."

Kurt leaned forward until he was carefully resting his forehead against Blaine's, and reached up until both hands were cupping Blaine's face. "I have no idea what I did to deserve you."

"You were you," Blaine said simply, as if it should be obvious. He reached up and gently pulled Kurt's hands away from his face, holding them between his own hands for a moment. He tilted his head up and pressed a kiss to Kurt's forehead before standing up. "Call me when you feel better. Even if you don't want to see me-"

"I always want to see you." Under other circumstances, Kurt would have been embarrassed at how needy that sounded, but it was nothing but the truth. Blaine gave him a dazzling smile. "Yeah. I know the feeling. I want to know when you feel better; I won't be able to stop worrying."

"Okay," Kurt murmured. "I love you."

Another small smile from Blaine. "I love you, too." He stood there for a moment, just staring at Kurt, who stared back, before seeming to shake himself and decide if he was going to leave, it might as well be now. He turned as he opened the bedroom door and raised his hand in a small wave, then slipped through the opening, pulling the door softly shut behind him.

The click of the latch was unnaturally loud in the silent room, or maybe that was just because of the migraine. Moving slowly to get under his covers, Kurt had to tell himself that he _wanted_ to be alone, that Blaine's presence would make it impossible for him to relax, and he didn't want Blaine to see him like this any more than necessary. Blaine would have been bored to tears, unable to read or do homework in the dark room, unable to talk to Kurt, having nothing to do but just _sit_ there in silence, for who knew how many hours. It was better that he wasn't there.

Kurt curled around his pillow, and told himself he was crying from his migraine pain.

_**To Be Continued...**_

_Father/Son Interlude coming up next!  
><em>


	5. Interlude: Blackest of Rooms

_Interlude before the epilogue! Y'all finally get Burt! And tomorrow will be the epilogue (which I *still* haven't gotten written yet, guh!) I hope you enjoy this, and let me know what you think!_

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><p>Kurt fell into a fitful doze, wiped out from his earlier bout of vomiting as well as the constant pain and the painkiller Carole had given him. At one point he woke up and could tell from what little light seeped around the edges of his black-out curtains that it was about seven or eight at night. He wasn't sure what had woken him, until he felt his bed dip slightly by his hips, and could make out the faint smell of motor oil that always seemed to cling to his dad. He opened his eyes halfway to see his dad watching him from the side of the bed.<p>

"Hey, kiddo," Burt whispered. "Carole told me you came home with a migraine. How're you doin'?"

"I threw up." Kurt sounded about ten years younger, and Burt had to smile; while Kurt hated to complain or draw attention to his suffering, he also enjoyed being the center of attention, and that included when he was sick.

"When'd'ya do that?" He knew Kurt didn't tend to throw up that often during an attack, despite always feeling nauseous, so if he was throwing up more... well, Burt wanted to know if he should start to worry. Not like he wasn't already worried, anyway. But he remembered Kurt's mother throwing up a lot during her migraines, and how prone to dehydration she was. If Kurt's migraines started to follow the same pattern...

"When I got home."

Burt breathed an almost silent sigh of relief. "Yeah, Carole told me about that. Said she gave you a Vicodin, how's it workin'?"

Kurt twitched his shoulders in a shrug. "Okay. Head still hurts." Burt could tell he was still under its influence; he sounded half asleep still, and his eyes were just a little glassy. Burt knew that was from both the pain and the painkiller.

Burt nodded. "Yeah, I bet it does, kiddo." He couldn't resist reaching out and brushing some hair off Kurt's forehead. It was a little limp now, from Kurt laying in bed and the light sweat he'd broken into, but free of his usual hair products, it was silky under Burt's fingers. "I know you probably don't want dinner-" he grinned a little at the groan and accompanying face Kurt made at the mention of food "-but whenever you get hungry, there's left-overs in the fridge."

"I'm never gonna be hungry again."

Burt had to resist the urge to ruffle his son's hair. "You always say that."

"This time I really mean it."

"Okay," Burt said, clearly humoring him. The squinted glare Kurt shot him said he knew he was being humored, too. Burt chuckled. "Listen, I'm goin' back downstairs, but I'll be back to check on you before I go to bed, 'kay?" He waited until Kurt hummed an understanding before continuing. "If you need anything - and I mean _anything_ - you let me know. You got your cell phone with you?"

Kurt waved his hand vaguely over the side of the bed. "It's in my bag. Front inside pocket," he directed when Burt picked up the messenger bag to get the phone.

After giving his son the cell, Burt sat and studied him. He looked pale - he always looked pale, but now he looked sickly, and dark smudges outlined his eyes. Burt thought maybe his cheeks looked a little sunken, too, but it might have been his imagination. Still, better safe than sorry. "You think your stomach could stand some fluid? Ginger ale, Gatorade? We got some popsicles in the freezer."

Kurt perked up a little at the mention of popsicles - it was one of his few weaknesses for sugar, but he rarely indulged himself unless he was sick. "Orange?"

Burt chuckled a little. "Probably. I'll go check."

It didn't take long for Burt to go downstairs to the kitchen, and soon he was back, an unwrapped orange popsicle sitting in a small cereal bowl to catch any sticky drops. Kurt smiled as he took the popsicle. "Thanks, dad."

"No problem, buddy." He watched Kurt slowly eat the frozen treat. "You..." Kurt looked over at him curiously when he didn't continue, but Burt just smiled a little and shook his head. He gently patted Kurt's knee. "You get some more rest, and I'll be back later to check on you."

"'Kay."

Burt leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "I love you, kiddo."

Kurt smiled happily, again looking at least ten years younger than he was. "Love you too, Dad."

Burt got up to leave, but paused as he was pulling the door closed, and just looked at his son for a moment. Kurt really was just like his mother... and sometimes, that really frightened Burt.

**_To Be Concluded..._**


	6. Love of Mine

_A/N: So, this is it! The end of this (particular) story. Everyone seems excited to hear that this has turned into a whole 'verse in my head, & I will definitely be writing more at some point. I'm iffy about it myself, but that's from a writing viewpoint, because I didn't expect this story to take over my brain. But anyway. There will be copious "end notes" following the story - I won't bore you by putting them up here. Go, read, and then let me know how much you hate me for this particular ending. ;P I apologize to anyone who wanted cuddles, there are none. Well... do verbal cuddles count?_

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><p>Kurt found himself staring at his digital clock, reading 7:22, without remembering actually waking up. It took him a little while to understand that he was looking at the time, and it must be morning. It took him even longer to realize that, while he had absolutely no urge to move, his head didn't hurt anymore. It was an interesting feeling, because his head wasn't pounding anymore, but it felt almost hollow, like he could still feel the echo of the headache.<p>

It was Saturday. He didn't have to drag himself out of bed and get ready for school. Which was a good thing, he realized with a jolt, because _he didn't have a car_. His Navigator was still sitting in Dalton's parking lot, because Blaine had driven him home. He was carless for the weekend.

_Blaine._ He was supposed to call him, let him know his migraine was gone. Kurt shifted his eyes down to the floor, where he'd dropped his cell at some point during the night. He was supposed to call Blaine... He whined, really not wanting to move. He finally forced his hand down and unlocked his phone. He used the speed dial and put the phone on speaker, so he wouldn't have to pick it up.

Blaine picked up on the second ring. "Kurt?"

"That, or it's my ghost calling you," Kurt mumbled. "I'm calling to tell you, my migraine's gone. Because you wanted to know. So you can stop worrying now."

There was a pause. "You still sound like you don't feel good," Blaine only sounded a little hesitant.

"I'm just exhausted," Kurt explained, pressing his face into the cool cotton of his pillowcase. "Tends to happen when you're in pain all night."

"Glad to hear your snark hasn't suffered, at least." There was laughter in Blaine's voice, and Kurt liked to think he could hear relief as well.

Kurt couldn't help but smile. "Please. Takes more than a little headache to do damage to my snark."

"Oh, well, that's good to hear." There was a pause, then Blaine said softly and sincerely, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Kurt smiled. "Yeah. Me, too. I mean-" he grimaced, and was glad Blaine couldn't see him right then. "Of course I'm glad I feel better, but- you know what I mean!" he finally muttered as Blaine started laughing. "Shut up," he sulked. "Stop laughing at me."

"Sorry," Blaine apologized, not sounding sorry at all.

Kurt was quiet for a moment, just staring down at his phone. "Hey Blaine?" he murmured softly.

"Yeah, Kurt?" came the equally quiet reply.

"Thanks, for taking care of me." Kurt picked at some lint on his comforter, uncomfortable having to admit that he'd needed to be taken care of.

A soft, cynical laugh came from Blaine's end. "I didn't really do anything, Kurt. I didn't know what to do."

"You were there. You helped, and you... you were you," Kurt finally said, remembering Blaine's words to him from the afternoon before.

"I still wish I could have done more."

Kurt made a face before saying, "Yes, well, hopefully you won't get another chance, but it's unlikely. This one was a little worse, probably because of our hectic schedule during Regionals, but it's not like it was completely unexpected. I get migraines, and since we're spending more time together now," (_because we're boyfriends!_ - yes, he was definitely starting to feel better if his inner voice was back to randomly celebrating their new status) "you'll probably see me get another one."

During the pause in conversation that followed, Kurt began to worry that he shouldn't have said anything. Maybe he should have let Blaine think that this was more of a special circumstance and less of the norm than it really was. Kurt had no illusions that he was fairly high maintenance, but maybe being chronically sick was more than Blaine had bargained for when he'd decided he wanted to have a real relationship with him.

"How often do you get migraines?" Blaine asked quietly.

Kurt stared at his phone, Blaine's question seeming to confirm his fears. If he told Blaine the truth, Blaine would realize how much care he needed, and decide it was more than he wanted to deal with.

But, if he lied, and said it wasn't that often, then eventually Blaine would realize he'd lied, and that would be bad, too. It might even be worse, because not only would he know how sick Kurt was, he'd recognize that Kurt had lied to him about it.

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice sounded anxious. Kurt didn't want him anxious.

"Not-" he bit his lip, unable to finish the lie. "It's not really consistent," he finally mumbled, "but every couple months, maybe." They'd been more frequent, his last few months at McKinley, because of the stress, but thankfully McKinley's syllabus was laughable, and he'd never had any problem keeping up with his classes and homework.

"Every couple months?" Blaine murmured, and Kurt closed his eyes, waiting for it. Waiting for Blaine to say he couldn't handle it. This was why Kurt never wanted anyone to know what he was going through - no one would want to deal with it. _He_ didn't want to have to deal with it, why would anyone else? "You're gonna tell me next time you get one, right?" Kurt's eyes snapped open, and he stared at his phone, half-wishing Blaine were there, just so he could see his face, to try and glean just what he was thinking from his face.

"I- what?"

Blaine made a noise that might have been amused, and said, "I may not be much help, but I wanna know when you're not feeling well, so I can- do whatever I can, y'know? I don't know if that makes sense, but, I wanna help, even if that means leaving you alone for a while."

"I don't-" Kurt had no idea what to say. It definitely wasn't what he was expecting. "I didn't-" He took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts and sort them into some sort of order that made sense.

"Next time," he finally murmured, "I won't ask you to leave. Even if it means you'll be horribly bored."

Kurt liked to think he could hear Blaine smiling as he responded. "I don't mind being bored."

_**The End!**_

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><p><strong>End Notes<strong>

_First of all, **YES**, I will be writing more of this, eventually. I don't know exactly how I wanted this to end, but this wasn't what I was expecting, either. These two should never be allowed to talk in my head, because they end up going in completely unexpected directions, and I can't draw them back._

**_How this came to be:_**

_I had a terrible, terrible headache about a week ago. Killer. I had the lamp on, and couldn't stand the light. I was wishing my head would just fall off and be done with it. I finally made myself get up and take some Advil, but it made me wonder, since my mom suffers from migraines (and they're at least somewhat hereditary, & her mother suffered from them as well). So, I looked them up in Wikipedia. (I don't have migraines, though, just hypochondria.)_

_Besides following some links explaining different words, and looking up what drugs might be used to help combat it & the like, that was all the actual research I did. Anything else was drawn from personal experience, either my own in being sick (I usually only get headaches from eyestrain or with a fever, but I do get stomach bugs occasionally), or more often, seeing my mom being sick, both from migraines and other chronic illnesses._

_My mom's been sick my whole life, so she became a little bit of a template for Kurt's mother. There are large differences I took into account, though, like Kurt's mother wasn't a single parent trying to take care of him and have a full-time job at the same time._

**_What's to come/To Do List:_**

_* I want to write a couple deleted scenes, specifically, when Blaine leaves Kurt's room to let him get dressed in part 4, and when Blaine leaves Kurt alone in his room at the end of the same part. Both parts will involve Blaine, and at least the second deleted scene will involve a little talk between Blaine and Carole._

_* someone on LJ commented on a way Blaine might be able to help with Kurt's migraines, and as soon as I read it, I knew I'd have to incorporate it into a later story. So, future-established-relationship!fic. That's honestly as far as I've gotten with the idea, but I really want to write it. I can see the one scene perfectly. I've also got an idea for Blaine becoming a little more proactive in helping Kurt with them (because Blaine wants to help however he can, lol!)_

_I actually love comments where people tell me about their own experiences with migraines (both their own or a family member's), and they really do spark story ideas quite often. Y'know, just saying. ;D_

**_Up Next!_**

_I will be writing a slightly future!fic, set in next season/year. All I'll really give away is, it's a Christmas fic, and Blaine comes to visit Kurt. There will also be Skype conversations, and the smelling of clothes. ^_^ Just something cute and sweet and fluffy and completely pointless (but with a little emotional angst to make the fluff even sweeter)._

_Why a Christmas story when it's not even May, you ask? Well, because it was the only time I figured they'd have off school to visit each other, and because if I start it now, I might actually have it finished before Christmas. ^_~ Plus, slightly less chance of it being Jossed before I finish it. And don't worry, I'll probably find myself writing snippets (or more) for this verse in between my other writing._


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